


The Spoils of War

by AEpixie7



Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [13]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: A whole lot to tag, Battle, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fighting Kink, Fluff and Angst, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot, SO, Sparring, This one is a roller coaster and it's got a bit of everything okay, This was supposed to just be plot, and then some porn happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 01:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21291404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7
Summary: Through a series of taunts and challenges, Beelzebub and Gabriel agree to spar in the courtyard of their castle in order to see who really would've won on the battlefield of Armageddon. But first, some fairly substantial fluff and angst, and some porn. IDK what's happening at this point, I'm just glad you're all along for the ride.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1437652
Comments: 22
Kudos: 138





	The Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: fight scene includes some minor descriptions of blood and bodily injury.

_I love you. _

_Beelzebub could hear Gabriel saying the words. But it wasn’t so much the words that bothered her, but the way it was being said. _

_There was devotion and love, of course. But as she heard them repeated, blinking her eyes through the fog and trying to remember where she was, what was happening... she heard the heartbreak, and the pain. It wasn’t a confession of love after an impassioned kiss, it wasn’t reassurance after a gentle caress. It was a plea from someone whose only joy was being ripped away from them. Gabriel was crying. Beelzebub blinked again, something about the fluffy white fog surrounding her making her sick. She could hear herself screaming in rage, but she couldn’t remember what had made her so angry, nor could she even remember sending the command from her brain to scream. But she was. She was screaming at Gabriel to shut his stupid mouth. But he didn’t. He was on his knees, those amethyst eyes glassy with tears that pooled and spilled down his cheeks. _

_“I love you. Please don't do this.” _

_“Shut up, stop saying that. Your love means nothing to me. You hear me? Nothing! I'm unlovable!” _

_She raised her weapon, her own tears warming her cheeks as she choked on a sob, looking down at him so helpless and broken. She wanted to scream at herself to stop, to put down her weapon and pull her angel into her arms. But she was entirely helpless. She was possessed, it seemed. She brought the weapon down, but didn’t see what happened after that. There was a clang of metal, a rush of wind, and then she was yanked backwards, Gabriel reaching out for her as he was swallowed up by the fog…_

Beelzebub felt her body jolt as her eyes shot open, suddenly very aware of the cold sweat clinging to the back of her neck. She glanced around in a panic, trying to get her bearings in the near dark, but the strong arm draped over her ribcage and the fingers intertwined with hers were all the reassurance she needed. She relaxed back into the soft sheets, releasing Gabriel's hand and shifting beneath his arm, so she was facing him. She was glad to see her startling hadn’t woken him, and she felt a sudden drop in her chest at the sight. He had already been awake when she woke up in his arms last time, so this was the first time she'd ever actually seen him sleeping. His hair was messy and rumpled against the pillow, and his expression was the most peaceful Beelzebub had ever seen him. No fake smile, no forced cheerfulness. No piercing violet eyes that he knew _exactly_ how to use to get what he wanted. He was simply resting and he was _beautiful_. 

All her panic she'd woken up with was waning quickly as she melted against his warm body. She huddled closer to him, gathering the plush blankets over her shoulder as she nuzzled against his chest, her hand absently gliding over his shoulder to caress her fingertips through his hair. His little contented groan nearly made her swoon. How could just lying with someone so quietly like this be so perfect? 

She continued to stroke gently through his hair, her happiness draining as she remembered her dream. She hadn’t meant to dream about Armageddon. She had avoided thinking about it, honestly, since she began this affair with Gabriel. Because it always lead to the same thought. 

_We would have destroyed each other._

She clung a bit tighter to him, remembering that moment of sheer panic as she raised her weapon, preparing to destroy the angel who was currently pressing his hand to her lower back and pulling her closer in his sleep. Terror seeped back into her veins as she realized he had been begging her for mercy. He was saying he loved her. They wouldn’t have even cared about each other, if they’d met on the battlefield at the end of the world. They would have wiped each other from the plane of existence without a second thought. So why had she dreamt about it now, when there was no promise of a future war? 

Unless… 

It wasn’t a dream… but a memory. 

She was ripped from her thoughts as Gabriel shifted, his eyes drifting open like the first glint of twilight in a dark sky. 

“Hey,” he said with a sigh, tipping his head down for a kiss. She returned the gesture almost robotically, without warmth or sincerity—her thoughts still far too tumultuous. Gabriel tensed, pulling back slightly to look down at her. 

“You alright, Bee?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern as his thumb absently caressed over her spine, where his hand rested on her lower back. _Get your shit together_, she thought, clearing her throat and tucking her head beneath his chin so he couldn’t see her chin quivering. 

“Yeah, fine,” she barked, her tone a bit more abrasive than she'd meant it. Gabriel's hand stopped its exploration of her back, and he pulled away from her ever so slightly, making her curse her own body for immediately clinging to him. 

“Is this about what I said last night?” he asked, and it took Beelzebub a moment to realize what he meant. 

_I love you._

She felt the immediate urge to snap at him. _Of course not, idiot_. Why would she be angry? He was an angel, a being of love. It was in his nature to love, even if she was fairly certain she'd never actually _seen_ him love anything but himself. Maybe this _was_ about what he'd said. Maybe it was what inspired her dream. Of course it was his fault, that had to be it. Anger felt easier than honesty right now anyway. 

“Maybe,” she said grumpily, anger boiling again when Gabriel chuckled at her, pulling her tightly against him once more as he kissed her hair. 

“Fine. I’m sorry. I don’t love you…” he said, his hand caressing her back when she bristled at that stupid _L Word_. He kissed her forehead quickly once, holding her in place as she tried to squirm away from him. “I despise you. Foul demon.” 

His kisses trailed down to her temple, then her cheek. Beelzebub growled and turned her head away as she pressed a hand against his chest and attempted to push him away. His hand on her back was unyielding as he continued pecking at her neck with kisses. “Wicked tempter. I have half a mind to smite you, fiend.” 

He pressed a loving kiss to her chest, just to the left of her sternum, his lips lingering on her skin where he could feel her heart beating, a hum in his throat when he realized she had stopped struggling and instead was shivering beneath him. She allowed him to stay that way for a few moments, before shoving him back and crawling away, the blankets falling from her upper body as she sat cross-legged and folded her arms, forcing her most malicious scowl. It was really hard to maintain, though, when Gabriel was just resting there, an eyebrow raised and his eyes glistening with sugary, insultingly sincere _love._

“Ass,” Beelzebub huffed, digging deep for that anger she'd felt only a moment ago and finding it fizzling quickly. How the hell was Gabriel so good at disarming her when she was like that? No one in the history of Hell had ever managed to talk her down when she let her wrath take over, usually they just had to clean up the aftermath. And yet Gabriel had managed in a matter of seconds, using only his stupidity. It just wasn’t fair. 

She shivered harder when she realized how cold it was in the castle when she wasn’t tucked beneath the blankets, close to her angel. Gabriel held his arms open, waiting patiently as she remained pouting, still desperately clinging to her dignity. But _shit_ it was cold. 

She crawled quickly into his arms, and he pulled the sheets and blankets up around her shoulders, his fingers snapping and relighting the fireplace, the orange glow flickering over his skin where his arm lay on top of the comforter, rubbing her shoulders. She wanted _so badly_ to be mad at him. She knew anger. She knew rage. But _this?_ It was foreign and it _ached._ It reminded her of her dream. 

“Gabriel do you think…” she stumbled over the other half of that sentence. _Do you think we would’ve killed each other?_

“Not usually,” Gabriel said, and Beelzebub snorted. And just like that, her anger and confusion were _gone._

“Shut up idiot, I’m trying to be seriouszzzz,” she teased, though she cuddled closer to him and began drawing abstract shapes on his chest with a fingernail. “Do you think… if we'd met on the battlefield, you know… at The End… do you think we would’ve destroyed each other?” 

Gabriel stiffened, sucking in a breath and holding it a while before letting it out. “I think… neither of our sides were actually, truly prepared for what was to come. To honestly _destroy_ another celestial by your own hand. To watch their divine life just… end. I don’t think demons would have been any more prepared for that, no matter how much they tout their affinity for murder. We were all so focused on the glory after the battle that none of us stopped to consider the battle. The bloodshed. The thousands… _millions_ of years worth of celestial experience just… gone.” 

Beelzebub was quiet for a very long time. Curse that handsome twit, he was right. She had only ever thought about the victory of standing upon an ashen Earth, she hadn’t stopped to think about the countless bodies, angel _and_ demon, that would have fallen in that ash. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said finally, her eyes fixated on her own fingertip drawing circles on his skin instead of looking at him. He sighed, stopping her hand and bringing her knuckles up to his lips. She was forced to look up at him, and _whoa_ she did not expect that amount of heartbreak in his eyes. 

“Yeah, Bee. I think… I think we probably would have.” 

Even though she had been completely prepared for the answer, it still hit her like a freight train. She couldn’t even fathom… having destroyed Gabriel before she could ever know him. How many angels would have killed demons they could have loved? How many demons would have done the same? Because as much as she hated to admit it, demons were just as capable of love as angels. She knew that now. 

She cleared her throat, deciding it was her turn to lighten the mood with sarcasm. 

“As if you could’ve landed a hit on me, wank wingzzz,” she teased, and Gabriel pulled back to stare her in the face, his jaw hanging open. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, excuse you? You think I can't fight?” 

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t think you could take me,” she prodded, a flush in her cheeks as she felt a crushing weight lifted off of her, now that she'd managed to move the conversation back away from… _feelings._

“You know Michael is the leader of God's armies, right? And uh… who do you think trained me to fight?” Gabriel asked, that smarmy, Holier-than-thou smile spreading across his face and just _begging_ for a slap. 

“And you know I'm a Prince of Hell? Who do you think trained _me?_” 

Gabriel smiled even wider, even more pretentious. “Well my guess would be Lucifer, and uh… correct me if I'm wrong but, wasn’t it Michael that defeated him during the rebellion?” 

_Don't rip out his tongue. **Don't rip out his tongue.** You like that tongue._

Gabriel chuckled at the way her face seethed red, receiving a pinched nipple for daring to kiss the tip of her nose. 

“_Ow!_ Is that how you win on the battlefield too? By cheating?” 

“I could defeat you with a hand tied behind my back, you overblown turkey.” 

“Is that so? Well why don't you put your weapon where your words are? There's a beautiful courtyard down near the armory, and I haven’t sparred in _ages._ Why don’t we test that theory?” 

Beelzebub considered for a moment, the idea lighting something in her heart that she hadn’t felt since the announcement of the Antichrist. She had never been overly keen on bloodlust, but it was the _excitement_ of battle that really got her riled up. It had been centuries since she'd gotten to hone her skills, since actual war wasn’t as prevalent anymore on Earth. Conquering had waned ages ago, and humans tended to impose their will on others using money and technology these days. Bezos had been a wonderful investment as far as Hell was concerned. 

“You sure you can handle that, big boy? You're still ah… pretty banged up from the last time I showed you who'zzz boss,” she asked, knuckling a bruise she found just beneath his collarbone and smiling wickedly at the quick hiss of his breath. His eyes fluttered closed as he rolled his head back onto the pillow, his cheeks blushing lightly as he pulled her flush against him, his half hard cock pressing between her thighs. Damn _masochist_. 

“Mmmmm maybe not. Maybe we just stay in bed all day. You haven’t tempted me to Sloth yet… I could hold you just like this, warm and lazy, maybe fuck you slow and easy for _hours…_” 

Beelzebub growled as she kissed him breathless, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and making him groan. The idea was tempting… _very_ tempting. But the idea of flexing her fighting muscles, and against such a worthy opponent? That was even _more_ tempting. 

“That doezzzz sound nice, angel. Keep it in mind for another time. Sparring soundzzzz even better.” 

“Better than sex?” 

“Fighting gets me hot.” 

“Really?!” Gabriel asked excitedly, rolling her to the side and leaning over her, his hand glancing her hip bone before his fingertip slid tantalizingly over her clit, making her shudder and cling to his arms. She gasped as he prodded inwards toward her entrance, two fingers dipping barely inside her as his thumb rubbed circles over her clit. She allowed her legs to fall open as she rolled her hips, bucking up against his hand, her thighs trembling. 

“_A-angel..._” she pleaded, followed by a breathless “_oh fuck_,” as he disappeared beneath the covers, his tongue flicking lazily over her clit and making her whimper. She reached beneath the sheets to rustle his hair encouragingly, a voice in the back of her mind berating her for her weakness. _You told him to save his dirty thoughts for later. And here you are, about ready to cum because that smart mouth you wanted to punch only moments ago is currently otherwise occupied. You're a whore for an angel, that’s what you are._

She came embarrassingly quickly, her thighs shuddering on either side of him, little whimpers escaping her lips as he continued to slowly lap at her clit, until she was mewling with overstimulation, her grasp tightening in his hair to try and make him stop. He peeked his head out of the sheets, entirely too proud of himself as his hand caressed up and down her thigh, his violet eyes watching her ride out the ensuing waves of ecstasy. 

“You… are gonna… regret… that…” she said between gasps. He kissed her belly, just below her navel, before crawling up next to her and lovingly brushing a bit of her messy hair from her face, another kiss pressed to her cheek. 

“Making you come? Never. I couldn’t regret it if I tried.” 

Beelzebub made a happy little buzz in her throat, the sound making Gabriel shudder and dig his fingers into her side, pulling her close as he rutted his hard cock against her thigh, his breath hot against her neck. Beelzebub wrangled her thoughts from the post-orgasmic fog, chuckling darkly as she rolled to her side and began gently stroking his cock between two fingers, the touch intentionally too light. He shivered and grazed his teeth over her shoulder, his hips thrusting forward in an attempt for more contact. 

“I told you to save your dirty thoughtzzz for later, didn’t I?” she asked, rubbing her thumb over the head of his cock and feeling it slick with precum. “And you disobeyed me.” 

“I can't help it Bee, you're just… _fuck_… so tempting.” 

“Poor angel. So _easy_, you are. If I'd known it would be this simple to tempt you…” she wrapped her hand completely around his cock and gave it a few long, slow strokes, making him whine. “I would’ve done it ages ago. Could’ve gotten myself a commendation. For Outstanding Performance and Continuing Contributionzzz to our Ignoble Cause. For Going Above and Beyond the Call of Duty, by Getting Beneath an Archangel. What a plaque that would make, hanging on my office wall…” 

“I’ll have one made for you out of Heavenly gold, dammit, now _please_…” Gabriel begged, his hand pawing at her side and his hips rolling consistently, though her touch was still far too light and slow—_teasing._

“Oh you thought I would let you come? After that naughty business with your tongue? No no, dear pet. You distracted me from my planzzz, now you'll have to distract yourself from this…” she whispered, licking a line from his collarbone to his earlobe, nibbling it as she gave his cock a few good, quick strokes. She reveled in his choked little gasp, and the way his body twitched, before she released her grasp and removed herself from the bed, approaching the fireplace and standing innocently in front of it, Gabriel's eyes wide and pleading. 

“Oh _come on_ Bee! Please, I want…” 

“I know what you want,” she said, her eyes dark and sinister as she watched his hand sliding beneath the sheets to touch himself. “Ah ah, none of that. We are going to go spar, becauzzze I want to see the look of horror on your face when I best you in battle. I imagine it will look a lot like you do now. Defeated. _Wanting._” 

Gabriel growled as he flopped back onto the bed, both hands gripping the headboard as he shifted, his hips jerking once with unrelieved tension when the sheets drifted over his sensitive cock. 

“And if I win?” he asked, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm himself, though the task looked quite difficult, with the tent he was currently making in the sheets. 

“Well then. You get the spoilzzz of war,” she said, turning toward the fire and swaying her hips, earning a pitiful whimper that was music to her ears. 

*** 

“At the risk of exposing my own weakness, I must admit… I may be a bit rusty at this,” Gabriel said, strolling lazily around the courtyard and miracling away any ice he found on the stone floor, so neither of them would slip while they sparred. Beelzebub made a sort of noncommittal buzz, miracling a bubble of warm air around the courtyard and visibly relaxing in the absence of the chill wind. 

“I think we're evenly matched. Fighting, as with fucking… I believe we make up for each otherzzzz shortcomings,” she said with a grin, her hands folded innocently behind her as Gabriel turned, still clearly annoyed by his unreleased sexual tension. It made Beelzebub giddy with power. 

“I have a good eye for these kinds of thingzzz. So here’zzz how this is going to go. I am small and quick, and since you are much bigger than me, you will be slower. Probably not azzz slow as a lot of people assume. But regardless, you'll attempt to use that to your advantage. I understand, I also enjoy when people underestimate me. I like to see that instant of panic when my opponent realizes I am not at all what they prepared for. So you'll try to surprise me with your power, which I would assume is actually quite impressive. But ultimately, my speed and ruthlessness will overpower you.” 

Gabriel tucked his hands in his pockets, a far too confident smile gracing his lips as he nodded. “Alright. Fair enough. It's a pretty good analysis, though I wouldn’t _dream_ of underestimating you. But uh… you forget one little thing, my Prince. And I _think_ it will be your downfall,” he said, still smiling as he approached, his eyes warmly regarding her when he stopped, chuckling at the way she puffed up her chest to appear bigger. 

“Oh yeah? And what'zzzz that, angel?” 

“I think you forget… you're fighting a masochist. I _like_ pain, and I _particularly_ enjoy it when it's you who's delivering it. So _mayyyybe_ you don’t have as much power over me as you think you do.” 

Beelzebub's eyes ignited, and her heart fluttered beneath a soft growl in her throat. “Gabriel, my pet… don’t make me hurt you in a way you won’t enjoy.” 

“No such thing, sweetheart. Now are we doin' this, or are we gonna stand here measuring dicks?” 

Beelzebub growled even louder. Damn that fucking stupid, sexy _brat_. Now her commitment to denying him sex was wavering. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to tear him to pieces or tear his clothes off or _both_. It gave her the kind of thrill in her belly that she absolutely _thrived_ off of in battle. Oh this was going to be _fun_. 

“Alright. I want you exactly as you would’ve been on the battlefield. Whatever celestial armor or weapons you would’ve brandished for Armageddon… that’zzzz how I want you.” 

Gabriel smirked at her wording, though he kept any comments to himself. “And what if our weapons aren’t evenly matched? Doesn’t that give one of us an advantage?” he asked, miracling his traditional angelic battle attire, though his was quite a bit flashier and more heavily accented with shades of purple. Beelzebub had always thought the angels' war uniforms were ridiculous but _damn_… Gabriel looked fucking _hot._

She turned away from him, hiding her blush as she miracled her own Prince's uniform, conspicuously lacking of any armor whatsoever. “Whatever advantages would have been present on the battlefield azzz well. Your lot would have fought dirty with Holy water, and ourzzz with Hellfire. And while I think it goezzz without saying that neither of those things will be put to use today… I want this as close to reality as possible. I want to know who _really_ would have won that day.” 

Beelzebub materialized her favorite pair of curved dual-wield wave swords straight out of their display case in her office down in Hell, flourishing them both and shivering with anticipation at the pleasant _ring_ of metal on metal when they grazed each other. How quick and easy it was to remove bits and pieces of her enemies… 

Gabriel miracled his own weapon, and Beelzebub couldn’t help her giggle at the gaudiness of it. A golden tipped spear and shield, the shield inlaid with Gabriel's own sigil in gold. 

“Long range weapon. Smart. Keepzzz faster opponents like me at a distance. Though I'm a little disappointed you'd hide behind a shield. You look so sexy in that uniform.” 

“It’s not hiding, it's defense. And you had your chance this morning, gorgeous. If you want this, you're just gonna have to wait until I've beaten you into the ground.” 

Beelzebub snarled menacingly, allowing just a few pairs of demonic fangs to drop as she twirled both blades out at her sides. “Careful, pet. Your ego izzz gonna pop if you inflate it any further.” 

Gabriel chuckled, balancing his spear against a notch in his shield as he slowly began circling her, his eyes entirely clear and focused. “Rules?” 

“There are no rulezzz in war. I will stop just short of killing you, and you will do the same. Everything else is fair game. Eventually, one of us concedes. Agreed?” 

“Done.” 

“Good. Begin.” 

Beelzebub thought she knew what to expect from Gabriel. Angels were courteous, polite creatures and they always upheld their manners, even in the presence of an enemy. So she had _expected_ Gabriel to bide his time, allowing her to make the first move, which of course she would gladly accept the opportunity. What she had _not_ expected was for Gabriel to rush her with all his strength and speed, leaping into the air and bringing down his spear with such unexpected precision that she had to deflect quickly to the side with one of her swords, the force of it throwing her back and making her stumble to regain her bearings. Her shock was short lived, and soon replaced by a wicked grin. She flourished her swords, circling Gabriel as he kept his shield poised in front of him, once again delicately balancing the spear and pointing it directly at her chest, like a scorpion ready to strike. 

“My my, Gabriel. I didn’t expect such ferocity from you right out of the gates.” 

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” 

Beelzebub chuckled, lunging forward and testing his reflexes, her sword glancing off his shield before she spun out of reach of the spear. “I would say so. From the looks of it you've got some pent up Wrath in there.” 

“That’s one sin that's very hard to tempt an angel to. By nature, we are not malicious, or hateful. But stick an angel in a position of power, dump more responsibilities on him than he can possibly handle, then reveal that everything he's ever worked for the last six thousand years was all for fucking _nothing_… that's a sure-fire way to piss him right the Hell off.” 

“Good. Use it. Direct your anger at me. I want to feel your Wrath. I want to taste it…” 

Gabriel growled as he lunged again, thrusting the spear forward and barely missing Beelzebub as she danced away, quickly ducking to the side and striking at his ribcage with a jab, the tip of her sword almost piercing his uniform before he spun the spear in his hand, knocking her blade away as it sliced only the top layer of fabric. He turned quickly, hitting Beelzebub square in the chest with his shield and knocking her back _hard_, her feet skidding on the stone and sparks flying from the tips of her swords where they dragged the ground. Gabriel straightened and looked down at the tear in his uniform, his fingers tracing the frayed edges and for the first time, Beelzebub felt true Wrath from him. It pulsed hot and sweet, his eyes hauntingly dark and beautiful, like the unfurling of some exotic, poisonous flower. All because of a little tear in his clothes. Fucking _drama queen._

Neither of them held anything back after that. Beelzebub would dart around him, trying to land blows where he couldn’t defend with his shield, though he was surprisingly adept at using the spear for both offence and defense, twirling the staff whenever she got too close, glancing her weapons away before they could cause any real damage. He used the shield for offense as well, even managing to catch Beelzebub's face with the edge and making her nose bleed. She laughed, even as the blood smeared over her still sharpened teeth, and she spat the blood over Gabriel's uniform, reigniting his rage and renewing the vigor of their battle. 

“Still not done, huh angel? I knew you had stamina, but I really thought you would have surrendered by now,” Beelzebub gasped after several hours of sparring, her arms shaking from the effort of maintaining her grip on her swords. Gabriel leaned on his spear, his wings now visible and shivering from overexertion. 

“We were trained never to surrender, not to the likes of the Fallen. It was death or victory, there was never another option,” he spat, the disdain clear in his voice, though it seemed more directed at the one whose orders he would have been following, rather than his current sparring partner. Beelzebub felt an instant of pity, imagining how many angels would have pushed themselves to death on that battlefield, because they were told mercy wasn’t an option. It hurt to think they were probably right in that assumption. The Fallen wouldn't have shown their captives anything less than eternal agony. Yikes, there were those pesky feelings again. _Deflect._

“Ah but you surrender to me in the bedroom,” Beelzebub teased, smiling at the hint of a grin on Gabriel's lips. 

“That is true. But it won't happen this time. I _will_ best you,” he huffed, rushing her again and deflecting a blow from one of her swords, a hiss of pain escaping as the other sword glanced his arm, slicing into the muscle and dripping blood down onto the stone. The pain only seemed to fuel him, however, because he used his large body to shove her back against the wall, his shield discarded as he took his spear in both hands and planted it horizontally just beneath her throat, both her hands relinquishing her weapons so she could grasp the spear, resisting with just enough strength to keep him from crushing her windpipe. He thrust upward, making her choke as her feet left the ground and her grip tightened over his fists, her arms shaking as she kept him just barely at bay. 

“Yield, demon. If I had my dagger, it would be stuck between your fourth and fifth ribs by now, since I have you pinned. Admit it, I would have won. Now yield,” he snarled, the command bordering on a plea. 

Beelzebub smiled, all fangs and blood, before her claws extended, piercing into the flesh of Gabriel's hands and making him drop the spear, stumbling back and cradling his hands. Beelzebub tackled him to the ground with a loud growl, one clawed hand gathering a fistful of his lapel and yanking him forward, her other hand pulling his dagger from its concealed sheath on her thigh, the tip pressing in at his throat and making him freeze. 

“You mean this dagger?” she asked quietly, her heart fluttering at the way his eyes flickered from her to the dagger and back. 

“You cheated.” 

“I did not.” 

“You wouldn’t have had that dagger on the battlefield. I would have won and you know it.” 

“Izzzz that so?” she asked, only now realizing she was straddling him. She settled a little tighter into his lap, the dagger still poised at his throat. “And how do you know I wouldn’t have stolen it off of you in the scuffle? Demonzzz can be very sneaky, and to kill an angel with their own blessed blade? How abzzzzolutely _delightful_.” 

She finished off her taunt with a roll of her hips, grinding down into his lap and making his eyelids flutter. 

“Now you really _are_ cheating. See, I told you you couldn’t win outright, you backstabbing demon.” 

“Fine then. If you don't surrender…” she leaned forward, keeping the dagger where it was as she sucked his earlobe between her teeth, his body already responding with a rush of heartbeats and a growing warmth in his groin. “We can continue sparring. Maybe even for a few more hourzz. _Or_…” she leaned back, releasing his lapel and dragging the dagger down his front, popping the buttons off his uniform one at a time as she rocked steadily against him. “If you surrender, I'll let you have your spoilzzz. Even if you didn’t earn them.” 

Gabriel grabbed the dagger by the blade and swiped it quickly to the side, flipping Beelzebub over and wrestling the weapon quickly out of her hand, the metal clanging against the stone as he tossed it far across the courtyard. He wrangled her wrists and pinned them above her head, his hips grinding against her as his eyes ignited with something she'd never seen before. 

“And what if I simply _take_ my spoils?” 

Beelzebub's heart did several backflips before landing with a throbbing warmth in the pit of her stomach. Gabriel... was being _dominant?!_ Of course she preferred it the other way around but she'd never seen this possessive, animalistic side of him and it was _exhilarating_. Perhaps fighting had gotten him just as hot as it had gotten her. 

“Try me, punk.”

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't decide who I thought would win in a battle between these two, so I didn't fucking choose. You choose lol. The next update will feature Dom Gabe! Holy shit, who knew he had it in him?!
> 
> Also, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAtbzV8CTV0) is Gabriel's fighting style. Achilles from the 2004 Troy. (Skip to 1:45 for the fight scene. Warning: blood.)  
[This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rS8MSIwmnGM) is Beelzebub's style. Badass baby Bee. :-)


End file.
